Page 2 of His North Star
“You know I don’t want it.” That would be an automatic five pounds straight to my hips. Before Blake, I never cared about maintaining my size, but jean shopping wasn’t my favorite activity anymore. Not since Blake’s harsh words echoed in my mind every time I stood in front of the mirror. If Ty left the box, I’d be living in my stretchy yoga pants for days.
He shrugged. “Give it to your family, then.”
I opened the door and flipped the light switch. After toeing off my shoes, I crossed the small, pale room to drop my quilt on the back of the cream couch. I turned to him with raised brows. “What’s so important that you had to come right now? I’m going to bed soon.” More like crying myself to sleep.
“Just come eat.” Ty went to the kitchen and grabbed plates and forks from the cabinets.
Huckleberry pie and vanilla ice cream filled the dish he passed me. I inhaled the buttery crust, which sent my mouth watering like a bloodhound about to devour a bone.
I swallowed a small bite of sweet, berry goodness. “This is good,” I admitted. And exactly what I needed after my crappy night. I’d allow myself ten nibbles, then be done.
“I’m glad you’re liking it.”
Once we finished eating, he took an extra-long time to wash the plates. Another indicator he was up to something. Not that I would stop him. A man doing the dishes, regardless that he was only a friend, was attractive.Extremelyattractive.
I’d learned within the first year of our friendship—which started when he pulled on my pigtails during first-grade recess—Ty never did anything before he was good and ready. I tried to be patient with him, though I didn’t always succeed.
When he finished the dishes, he said, “Come sit on the couch with me.”
“Are you finally going to explain why you’re here? You’re being weird.”
“I wanted to visit.”
We sat next to one another, my loveseat so small, and Ty so big, our arms and legs touched.
I wrapped my arm around my middle. “Yeah, right.” I pointed to the pie, a.k.a. the evidence. “What’s the real reason?”
He reached out and tousled my cinnamon brown hair, blocking my view of him. I flipped it back into place and scowled.
He chuckled, not one bit intimidated by me.
“Your mom called.”
Blast that woman for ratting me out. “This is a pity visit?” I accused.
“Absolutely not!”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Really?” I asked dryly.
“It’s not, I promise.” A concerned look crossed his features. “But howareyou holding up?“ He gestured at his eyes, then mine. “You’re a little red.”
Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your heart is raw. Your eyes betray you and join the party. “I’m fine,” I lied.
He tapped my knee. “You’re not,” he said tenderly.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” I’d talked enough about my ex to last me a lifetime. I had to move on from him.
He frowned. “Why?”
My emotional bandwidth for the day was spent. Merely the thought of telling Ty all the feelings and emotions drowning me at the moment was too overwhelming. “I just don’t, okay? If that’s all you came for, you can leave now.” I pointed to the front door.
He tapped my knee again. “What’s your schedule tomorrow?”
I side-eyed him. “Same as any other Friday. Working until three-thirty unless a guest needs something. Why?”
He nodded, a slight smile on his face. “Perfect. Come out with us. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Seriously? I ground my teeth. Since Ty was the one who had introduced me to his cousin Blake, I knew he felt awful Blake had broken our engagement. I didn’t hold it against Ty though. It wasn’t his fault Blake grew too big for asmall-town nobody. But after six failed attempts to meet a new guy, why hadn’t Ty taken the hint to leave me be?
